


Red Dragon in mourning

by Charles_Rockafellor



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Grief/Mourning, Revenge, Thief, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charles_Rockafellor/pseuds/Charles_Rockafellor
Summary: Hell knows no fury like a mother's loss.𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒆! ❤️
Comments: 2
Collections: Dice-RPG worlds, Family





	Red Dragon in mourning

They'd pulled a job and gotten away.  


That was a year ago.  


He wasn't introspective.  


He didn't bother wondering how the Dragon had found him, or why, or worry about the others, he just slipped into one of the large stones buildings as soon as he'd seen its silhouette in the sky, and without a word of alarm to anyone else.  


Now everyone else was seeking shelter.  


Good thing he'd gotten here first. Not that anyone else was likely to think of this spot, or manage to get to it, but firstest with the mostest was nine tenths of valor.  


It landed on the rooftop. He could hear its gentle footsteps crunching across the timbers.  


Slowly the layers were peeled away, as if it sought a delicacy within.  


Its snout appeared in the hallway, its breath tickling the currents within the room, its eyes still only a few feet short of the doorway.  


His own breath stilled as he opened his mouth for a wide and more thoroughly silent cycle, willing his awareness to quiescence, becoming one with the shadows that lay around him.  


The snout began snuffling in another room, some poor soul screaming as it found and lifted him on high.  


He took this opportunity to abscond to another location, out the flapping back door and across the narrow street to the public restroom.  


There were too many people within already for his taste, but they could be useful too – something to keep the Dragon's attention as he slipped to the docks to bury his scent in the muck of the low tide and sewage, especially if he rubbed against as many of them as possible before they dispersed. A fleeting image of having covered himself in Dragon's egg-white came to mind, and he smiled at the memory.  


It would take more than ocean water and egg whites to escape this situation, and there were no such nests in town in any event.  


Slipping off his boots, he sought to trade with anyone present as he stepped intentionally through pools of urine – it would mean an annoying downgrade, and possibly (preferably) a mismatching pair as a result, but they'd carry his scent along a path no doubt different from his intended route. _Too bad for the sucker who takes me up on it_ , he thought as he sliced open the seam along the side of one boot very slightly, just enough to better let slip the absorbed odors to waft along the winds to his hunter.  


Perhaps the sewage outlet wasn't a bad bet, if he waited 'til after the Dragon had blasted the sewers thoroughly – it wouldn't do to get well hidden away and out of the breeze only to end up parboiled.  


He gave his cloak to a huddling family on his way down a side alley, then took the opportunity to swap shirts with a drunken sailor who lay passed out on a pile of garbage two blocks farther along.  


Something caught his eye as he crept along the seawall. Pausing, he looked back over everything present: driftwood, clogged mats of seaweed, various other flotsam... a somewhat small giant snail shell.  


Smiling to himself, he lay comfortably at the bottom of the shell's curve, bobbing gently as the currents carried him slowly away.

  


**O ~~~ O**

  



End file.
